


Bippity Boppity Boo

by G_the_G



Series: Kismet or Something Like It [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Darcy Lewis, Awesome Phil Coulson, Darcyland, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Phil Coulson Has the Patience of a Saint, Sassy Phil, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 23:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4724057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/G_the_G/pseuds/G_the_G
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy Lewis always knew she would get into trouble in her life. And it was all because of her soulmarks. </p><p>Good thing her destined bff is a bamf ninja.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suited to Match

**Author's Note:**

> This was all inspired by one little line in my chapter intro for my last soulmate short. Phil is dangerous for my muses apparently. I just see him and Darcy as a sassy bromance of epic proportions. 
> 
> First chapter is kind of slow setting things up, but it should pick up from here on out.

Darcy Lewis had always had two soulmarks.

She knew she was lucky—she was going to find two people that would make her life way awesome. Because how could anyone that was her soulmate not be totally awesome? Plus, knowing her own personality and proclivities, one of them would definitely be platonic and that was like a built-in bff for life. However, she was well aware of her own abilities to screw things up and would bet money that if she met her platonic soulmate first, she’d confuse them for the romantic one and would just make everything awkward. Darcy had a gift for making things awkward; she didn't necessarily get embarrassed, but oh, she could make things awkward. So, there might have been a few drunk rants to college roommates about hoping that the platonic soulmate was way old or something if she met them first. Then they’d be like her fairy godmother all wise and protective and shit. She could totally go for that.

The problem was that neither of her soulmarks sounded very godmotherly.

'Ms. Lewis, if you would come with me, I believe we have a few things to discuss' was in a neat script wrapped around her left wrist. She’d had a couple of close scares like when she thought it was her new scary doctor in the campus health center freshman year or the principal’s secretary at her high school. It could just be someone way polite, but the words sounded so official. So it wasn’t really that much of a surprise that she’d started to see that mark like a stamp from The Man. And The Man could suck it.

Her other soulmate provided far more hope. 'So you’re the one that’s been making Phil’s eyes twitch. Nice. **'** stretched down her right side from ribs to hip in a blocky form of chicken scratch. That definitely sounded promising. She totally had an excuse to bug people, especially anyone named Phil, and would one day be matched with someone who seemed to appreciate it. Winning!

So, one soulmate sounded kind of like a drag and the other like an accomplice; and neither of them showed any sign of appearing any time soon. Darcy's parents weren't soulmates, but her brother and sister each had soulmarks and had found the lucky souls cursed to spend the rest of their lives with them in high school (they were her siblings; she was allowed to pity the poor fools fated to them). Her own best friend had found his soulmate on the kindergarten playground during a tussle over the monkey bars. Yet, Darcy hadn’t thought much about her own missing soulmates until everyone was graduating high school and suddenly soulmate pairs she grew up with were getting married to their _ones_ and there was Darcy with _two_ who both still refused to show up.

She just hoped she wasn’t one of those people who didn’t find their soulmate until she was like 70. Not that there was anything wrong with that she could totally do her own thing, but that was a long way away: and Darcy wasn’t exactly known for her patience.

So she went about her life and just kept hoping fate would follow through with the whole godmother+1 deal sooner rather than later. She’d had enough disasters she had to take care of on her own. Like when she decided to try and cut her own bangs freshman year. Or the roommate from hell sophomore year. Or the campus security hacking fiasco that following summer. Or when she was only one semester away from graduating and her academic counselor told her that the AP classes she’d taken in high school would no longer count under new accreditation rules. And when the counselor said she’d still need to somehow make up six science credits despite the fact Darcy had a full schedule and did _not_ want to stay for an extra semester. She was so done forking out all that money and there was no way she was walking in December, dammit. This was way worse than the junior-year naked snowman incident.

Darcy stood outside the counselor’s office and was the closest that she’d been to crying in public since she was six and her neighbor’s birthday party had ruined clowns for her forever. She took a moment to try some yoga breathing her neighbor taught her and then saw the notice on the cork board across from her.

                **Science Internship** : New Mexico-Application Deadline November 15.

                Assist with tracking atmospheric data relevant to possible Einstein-Rosen Bridge phenomena.

                January 1st to May 31st. Will reward up to 6 college credits upon completion.

It was November 14th and she had absolutely no idea what the heck any of that meant, but she was desperate. She tore down the paper and went straight to the science department’s main office, flyer in hand.

One interview with a confused department secretary, a couple emails, and one skype session with a resigned Dr. Foster later (hey, she was the one that advertised so late and required that the intern got there on New Years. Who does that?), and the internship was Darcy's.

Someone somewhere must have loved her because she was able to miraculously test out of one class and turn the other three into distance-learning courses to make the internship work. All that hassle for six measly credits and graduating when she had planned on. But hey, Darcy was a bamf and told herself it would make her seem more rounded when she applied for other jobs. Or at least be a talking point for future interviews. It'd be great.

And that’s how she found herself stuck in the middle of nowhere New Mexico as intern to an intense astrophysicist.

It actually wasn’t that bad. She had plenty of time to work on her coursework for her other classes and Jane was nice when she wasn’t distracted or awake for more than 24 hours. It thankfully only took two weeks before Darcy recognized the signs of a Science! bender and how to counteract it. So everything settled in to lots of data entry and number crunching, some mild boredom, improved playlists, and random internet hijinks to keep herself entertained.

And then Thor came.

It had seemed like a normal enough day, you know, other than Jane’s Science! bro showing up and them driving into the middle of the desert to try and check out some storm. Again. Then everything got weird. It wasn't every day you accidentally ran over some hot, scary dude and had to tase him because he was way nuts. But the more she thought over what happened in the desert and the more she and Jane argued with Erik, the less Darcy thought the guy was legitimately nuts and more just Twilight Zone weird. Which was crazy in itself. 

The next morning Jane was acting weirder than expected for a Science! genius obsessed with a new puzzle. She kept muttering what sounded like "it makes no sense" while holding her stomach. Darcy didn't think the tiny woman could suddenly be pregnant (they spent way too much time together, there was no way Jane had gotten some action without Darcy knowing), so she cornered her friend as they got ready to track down Thor at the hospital.

“You alright there, Jane?”

Jane dropped her hand from where she’d awkwardly been holding it against her stomach and whirled to face Darcy.

“Yeah, fine, just…”

“What?”

Jane paused and Darcy folded her arms and leaned against a table to wait the other woman out.

“You know how most people have words if they have soulmates?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you know how you thought it was weird that I had a tattoo?”

That was not what Darcy expected as a follow-up to the first question.

“Well, yeah, you never really seemed like the kind to get any ink.”

“It’s not a tattoo.”

“It’s not?”

“No. And…”

“And?”

Darcy waved one hand at Jane encouraging her to continue.

“It changed color," Jane ended on a higher tone, hands held up in a helpless gesture.

“Was that a question? What do you mean it changed color?”

The other woman dropped her hands and shrugged her shoulders.

“I mean, well, when we found Thor it stung really badly and when I checked it when we got back it was a different color.”

Now that was an interesting development.

“So, you have a mark that you’ve had since birth; you’ve had it since birth, right?”

Jane nodded.

“Right, you’ve had it since birth and it suddenly hurts and changes color when you meet a guy who claims to be someone who Norse Mythology says is a god.”

“It’s crazy.”

“Or maybe Thor is really an alien from a scientifically advanced society. And maybe he’s your soulmate.”

The scientist shook her head emphatically and turned away muttering.

“It’s just a coincidence.”

Jane stalked out of the dealership and climbed into the Science! Wagon still murmuring to herself. Erik gave Darcy a questioning glance, but she ignored it and just smiled as she climbed in as well. Jane had totally found her soulmate. And the dude was hot and from space. This was going to be fun.

And then the men in black showed up.

Jane had been denying the whole soulmate situation, refusing to even bring it up with Thor—which was why the not-so-smart genius had let Hottie McBlondie disappear after they found him again outside the hospital. And by found, she meant ran over again. Darcy was about to point out that there wasn’t such a thing as coincidences like that (intricate birth marks changing color after meeting weird men in the desert circumstances, not running said weird men over repeatedly circumstances) but they were overrun with feds before she got a chance.

At that point Darcy was too distracted by the sheer crazy of the situation to do anything other than flounder and gape. She’d been around a few conspiracy theorists (especially out there in Hicksville New Mexico) who went off about government suits shutting people up, but seeing it all up close was different. And all of Jane's resistance was proving futile.

Darcy had just determined an alien space god was her new friends’ soulmate and now suddenly it seemed there was a legitimate possibility that Gitmo might be in their future. Hell no! She was not down with that. It was way better to just go along with it like Erik seemed willing to. 

But the douchebag lead agent just kept up with his weird lack of facial expressions and annoyingly calm voice while stealing everything from Jane. He then made it worse by repeatedly calling Jane ‘Ms.’ and Darcy’s righteous indignation fired up and her mouth kicked in. Because screw that. Pilfering all the equipment in the name of security was ridiculous, but disrespecting her boss was another thing entirely.

“It’s DOCTOR Foster, _Mr._ Granite Face. Get it right.”

Said Granite Face's non-expression froze as he took a deep breath through his nose before looking at Darcy.

But then Jane was off on another rant about all of her research and a random suit-guy took her notebook and Jane went after it, diving into the van of scary government suits; because of course she would. Darcy and Erik were able to pull her back out before anyone got too twitchy, but any chance of negation was over at that point.

Agent K turned to Jane again, ignoring both Darcy and Erik.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

He didn’t add anything else; didn’t apologize. Just got in the car and left. With all of Jane’s research. And Darcy’s iPod.

Balls.

And then the whole metal deathbot invasion occurred.

Double balls.

After Thor flew off with Jane, literally, Darcy piled into the Science! Wagon with Erik, Sif, and the warriors three and that was its own adventure. Erik drove to what Sif explained was a bifrost site for travelling to Asgard while Hogun sat silently in the front seat.  Fandral added his own asides to Sif’s explanations and flirted outrageously with Darcy. Darcy wasn’t about to argue with that, he was the most attractive man she’d seen barring Thor for the last four months, and Jane totally had dibs there. Sif didn’t seem amused by Fandral’s additions but Volstagg chuckled from the back.

Before Darcy knew it they were back in the middle of the desert, again, staring up at another massive tornado-like storm, again, and it kind of sort of freaked Darcy right out if she was honest. But then Fandral kissed her hand, brazen hussy that he was, and everyone ran off into the light and that was just against everything that Hollywood had taught Darcy. It felt like forever as they continued to stare up into the storm above, but eventually the clouds disappeared and the trio climbed back into the Science! Wagon to head home. 

The next day the suit who was apparently called Agent Coulson and not He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named showed up with all their stuff. Jane was frenetically going from jack-booted thug to suited lackey to jack-booted thug to make sure that nothing got broken in the equipment's big day out. Darcy stood and watched the reverse-burglary for a while, until she noticed Agent ‘Granite Face He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named’ Coulson off to the side. He made eye-contact and gestured for Darcy to come join him.

She hesitated. It hadn’t been unequivocally proven that he didn’t have an actual mind-wiping tool that he planned to use on her. But she saw his eerily fake content expression falter and took that as a sign the man was actually human and possibly not planning to dispose of her. Maybe. Hopefully.

Eventually she shuffled over to where he stood and stared at him with her arms crossed and brow raised. He had beckoned, he could start the conversation.

“Ms. Lewis, if you would come with me. I believe we have a few things to discuss.”

It had to be a cosmic joke. A huge, freaking totally unfunny cosmic joke.

“Bullshit.”

“I have it on very good authority, Ms. Lewis, that it’s not, as you say, bullshit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I borrowed the idea of Jane's soulmark from others. I can't remember which fic it was in, so if it's you, let me know and I'll totally credit you!


	2. One Way or Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil learns the hard way that you can't avoid the vortex of awesomeness that is one Darcy Lewis.

Six hours after Thor disappeared back into the clouds he’d come from, Darcy found herself in a random diner in Santa Fe having a silent staring contest with Agent ‘Granite Face’ Coulson. He’d only technically kidnapped her since he’d gone through three persuasion tactics before she willingly got in the car. The winner had been his promise to get her iPod back in working order that same day if she cooperated. Plus, Darcy figured it was best to get their discussion out of the way and she had no desire to try and even begin to explain it to Jane yet. Instead, she sent the distracted scientist a text that she was needed for ‘debriefing,’ threw in a few genuine opinions on jack-booted thugs, and got ready for what would most likely be the weirdest or most anti-climactic heart-to-heart ever.

“Has anyone ever told you that ‘debriefing’ makes it sound like you’re trying to deny my constitutional right to tightie-whities?”

Coulson sighed and slouched a fraction on his side of the booth.

Maybe it was because little mini-suits weren’t around or maybe he was taking this soulmate business far more seriously than she ever thought a government spook like him would. But whatever his reason for loosening up, she found she already liked him better for it. Perhaps she'd survive their conversation after all.

“This would be easier if you didn’t fight me every step of the way,” he murmured as he picked up his menu.

“Who said I was fighting? I’m just making friendly conversation.”

He raised a skeptical glance at her over the dinner specials page.

“I’m sure your very _well-informed_ Poli-Sci 101 interpretation of my job will reflect well on both of us.”

“Ouch. Harsh much?”

He looked back down at his menu but his lips twitched.

“I was just making friendly conversation.”

“All right. Tit for tat; I like it. I just didn’t expect it from a government lackey like you.”

“I live to serve, Ms. Lewis.”

“Okay, if you’re going to sass me at least call me Darcy.”

He nodded his head once and quirked his lips in acknowledgment but didn’t say any more as the waitress came up. Darcy went for her usual breakfast platter and then took time to examine him as he looked over the menu one last time to give his order.

He wasn’t a bad looking guy. In fact, if she was like ten years older she’d probably even find him hot. But she wasn’t ten years older and the dude was definitely pushing forty-five; just a bit much for her. She sat toeing the line of freaking out, but the more she stared at him and let her emotions take control of her mind (thank you random art appreciation class freshman year) the more she felt a solid and comforting weight. Kind of like a hug; which was funny since he did _not_ seem like the huggy type.

“I’m just gonna go right out there and say we’re platonic.”

The waitress had left by this point and he leaned back on his side of the booth, resting his hands lightly on the table, one atop the other.

“I once again thank you for your astute observations.”

“Easy with the sarcasm there, Granite Face. You might lose your reputation or something.”

His lips did that twitchy thing again.

“You’d be surprised.”

Huh, this would definitely be interesting.

 “Don’t think we won’t come back to that," Darcy paused for a moment to point at him. "But I need to clarify a few things first. For instance, did you kidnap me to discuss your not-burning love for me for any particular reason? We could have just talked back at the dealership.”

“I’d rather that no one else find out about this for now.”

“Why? Is it not good for my safety or something?” she smirked and lowered her voice. “Are you a wanted man, Coulson?”

“In twelve countries and Andorra.”

He’d gone back to his creepy-pleased Agent expression.

“Bullshit.”

“You seem rather fond of treating our interactions like a card game.”

“I calls ‘em like I sees ‘em.”

“Indeed.”

She leaned forward to look more closely at his face but his lack of sincere facial arrangement stayed the same.

“So, really—if people find out that I’m your soulmate am I gonna like disappear forever and no one will remember me?”

“It’s possible.”

Darcy’s eyes widened.

He smiled, shifting back into his human form, and she huffed out a breath.

“Look out folks! We have a funny one here.”

He lifted his hands in what she categorized as a ‘Real Human Interaction’ pose.

“There’s also the fact that SHIELD agents are notorious gossips and I don’t need this making its way through the organization by Friday.”

She snorted and leaned back, grabbing the sugar packets to make a tower.

“Baby suits like to meet up around the water cooler on the regular, is that it?”

He chuckled and handed her the Sweet 'n' Low to continue her building efforts.

Darcy glanced up and noted he hadn’t shifted back into creepy Agent face. If he kept that up, this whole soulmate deal should work out for her entertainment as she got to know him; even if she didn’t tell anyone about it.

She might talk a lot of crap, but she got the idea of keeping some things close to not invite extra issues or danger. She’d already felt like a big enough target earlier that day with the whole deathbot fiasco, so she was totally willing to go along with not letting the new soulmate development get out. Besides, wasn’t there some kind of unspoken rule about keeping fairy godmothers secret?

The waitress arrived with their food and the rest of their meal went rather enjoyably. Darcy pestered him with questions, trying to get as much information out of him as possible; and he evaded questions, taking clear pleasure in giving her as little information as possible. He did get way cagey, however, when she brought up the subject of second soulmates and actually looked terrified when she told him about her second soulmark.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about something like that at a time like this? We're bonding.”

He didn’t respond, but his face seemed to be frozen between a look of horror and his creepy Agent smile.

“You got a problem there Secret Agent Man?”

Darcy took it as a sign of his genuine distress that he actually responded out loud.

“Phil. My name’s Phil.”

Well didn’t that beat all?

She laughed loud enough and long enough that most of the other patrons in the diner turned to look at her. That clinched it. Fate was going to have him introduce her to her second soulmate one day.

Phil Coulson totally was her fairy godmother.

Eventually he took her back to the dealership and returned to his role of Supreme Overlord of the Mini-Spooks. Darcy quite enjoyed giving Jane a rant about government toolbags and their high-handed tactics in front of Coulson and the minions. He even gave her an amused eyebrow lift at her more creative epithets.

Over the next couple of days  Agent Coulson, and not Phil, came in to make sure Jane was all settled with equipment both formerly appropriated and now provided by SHIELD. So, Darcy's game of ‘say crazy shit to get a reaction from Agent Coulson’ continued. It turned out that government conspiracy theory rants got the best facial responses. His eyes would narrow and lips purse and Darcy knew he was trying not to laugh in front of the baby suits.

He also got twitchy whenever she brought up the topic of soulmates; it wasn’t obvious unless someone were to look for it, but the difference was there. So, of course she brought up soulmates all the time; especially since Jane was on a Thor high and actually willing to talk about it now. Darcy began keeping a notebook to document the discomfort. He’d set his coffee cup down a little too firmly, his typing on his phone sped up, his Agent smile became a little more pronounced.

And she would never forget how Coulson’s eyes would squint whenever she called him Granite Face. It got even better when she shortened it to Gran.

But he totally deserved it. After a couple of days of ‘sorry we overreacted, here’s your stuff back plus some extras, don’t hate us, we want your future data’, Phil gave them the SHIELD satellite codes and made like a shepherd, getting the flock out of there. Darcy was able to corner him away from the baby agents but he refused to give her his number; said contact wouldn’t be wise right then and that he should be the one to make contact when it was safer. That was absolutely ridiculous. He was her soulmate and he was damn well going to be her godmother whether he wanted to or not. Besides, he had given Jane his number. Like the Thor-driven scientist wasn’t going to give it to her intern lest it disappear in the pit of despairing Science! notes? Please.

So, Darcy made sure she went alone on the next supply run and bought a burner phone like all the criminals on TV. She felt very James Bond the whole time and might have hummed the Mission Impossible theme song while texting Coulson.

**Gran! I miss you already!**

_How did you get this number?_

**You gave it to me. Remember?**

_That is not what happened._

**Well, you might as well have given it to me. If you didn’t want me to have it, you wouldn’t have given it to my boss peoples.**

**\---**

**I’m interpreting your silence as a frowny face.**

_I thought I had no ’genuine’ facial expressions._

**Look. I was safe about it. Trust me.**

_I don’t have a choice, do I?_

**Nope.**

_Fine. But if anything changes you have to listen if I say it’s not safe._

**I knew you loved me.**

_If that’s what you want to call it._

**So, Gran. Tell me a story.**

**Ooh, something from back in the horse and buggy days.**

_I already regret this._


	3. Suddenly I'm Bright and Breezy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil has learned to choose his battles. It's just a shame you can't win all of them.

Phil realized he was fighting a losing battle and finally got a second phone for the sole purpose of texting Darcy. Nonetheless, there weren’t any conversations until he had given her a full ‘safety protocol’ rundown about how she couldn’t say anything too identifying, should never actually call him, and needed to be aware that he wasn’t always going to be able to answer in any semblance of what _she_ might consider a normal time frame. And whatever, it wasn’t like she was born yesterday or completely ridiculous. 

He’d tried to reference her iPod fixation in the face of Jane losing all of her life’s work as part of his argument, which first, was creepy that he even knew about that (did he bug the dealership or something?), and second, totally out of context. She and Jane had a long-running feud about the importance of iPods (turns out that brilliant astrophysicists could also be prejudiced against all things Apple) and the scientist needed to be distracted from her righteous anger towards SHIELD before she decided to act on it. Darcy saw it as her personal calling to make sure Jane never went to the evil end of the genius spectrum; the world just couldn’t handle that. Darcy figured she deserved a thank you card at the minimum for at least three close-calls by Thor’s arrival alone.

 

A month post-Thor Phil wound up stationed at some base in Roswell and actually had a predictable schedule, so skype evenings became a fairly regular occurrence. He hadn’t had much choice in the matter, really, but that was beside the point. And since he was so hesitant over texts and refused to meet her in a random diner in Albuquerque for Taco Tuesdays, let alone her birthday, he'd have to deal with video calls. Not to mention, Darcy was able to hack into Skype (freaking child’s play) so it would have no record of her using it and Phil was on some ultra-secret and secure wifi connection, so it seemed like the best of options that Phil couldn't fight.

He usually worked on paperwork and reports, or whatever it was that management-level government suits did when technically off the clock, and she would play games on her phone while interrogating him in true Darcy fashion. It took only a couple video sessions of her asking him heinous amounts of questions before he finally released a sigh to end all sighs and began to answer.

But he still found perverse joy in giving her the most obscure or weirdly direct answers without explaining them. 

 

“Okay, favorite movie?”

“Caddyshack.”

“Wha—actually; no. That makes sense. You and Bill Murray were totally separated at birth.”

“True brothers from other mothers.”

She snorted and switched to paint the nails of her other hand a nice Thor's cape red.

“Favorite soda?”

“Coffee.”

Not surprising.

“Last series you watched on DVD?”

“Billy Blanks.”

Darcy paused and looked at the screen. Phil was looking down at the papers in front of him.

“Wait, like the tae bo Billy Blanks?”

He didn’t elaborate or look up and all she heard was the scratch of his pencil on whatever he was working on.

“Fine, Mr. Booty Bootcamp." She went back to paining her nails. "One thing you could never live without?”

“Incendiary devices.”

“Like explosives?”

“That is generally what the term is attributed to.”

She chose to ignore his sass and set the nail polish down to carefully clap her hands in excitement.

“Ooh, I bet you have such a reputation for liking explosives that your team always carries them. Am I right?" Phil didn't look up, but there was a small smile on his face. "Do you have to say ‘explosives’ and they react like nurses in the operating room or do they just know you and hand them over without you having to say a word?”

“I encourage productive and efficient responses among all agents.”

Darcy cackled for a minute. He totally had petrified minions handing him explosives on a regular basis.

“Okay, Sid Phillips. Next question: what milkshake brings all the boys to your yard?”

“Vanilla.”

“And let me guess, you like your steak medium and your potatoes baked, right?”

“I’m a simple man, Darcy.”

 

During one round of questions, Phil let slip that he liked detective shows and Darcy insisted they watch some together afterwards. They went through several trying to find one they could actually agree on. And even then it was a rocky experience. She preferred more of the British quaintness and he had a thing for way too much Law & Order SVU (ironic considering his job didn’t seem so big on due process). Darcy teased him about his ongoing crush for Mariska Hargitay for a couple weeks. She spat out her slushee when Phil implied he actually held an affinity for Ice-T.

Every week Darcy took the time to set her computer up on pillows next to her so it was really like she was watching shows with Phil on the couch. In contrast, he’d started with his computer on his lap. Darcy complained about the view of looking up his nose and then started pointing out what she saw up there. It only took a couple comments about gold mining and deforestation before Phil settled on always putting his computer on the table in front of him.

Darcy preferred that arrangement more than she’d expected; she got to see all of him and learn more about when he was genuinely relaxed. She wanted to narrate like David Attenborough exactly how and when he switched back into Coulson, kick-ass SHIELD boss rather than Phil, the nerdy goof. But she figured he'd get twitchy over her knowledge of that particular personality shift of his. A shift which often took place when she’d ask more invasive work-related and not personal questions; both for her information and just to bug him.

“How many secret levels of man-in-black clearance are there?”

Phil didn’t answer and Darcy looked over to stare at him through the screen. She could tell he was only pretending to be absorbed in the TV show—his face had gone into Agent mode and NCIS just wasn’t that interesting.

“You might as well tell me, Gran.”

More silence but his creepy Agent smile started morphing into a grimace.

“If you tell me I promise I won’t go looking for the answer.”

He released a breath but still didn’t look away from the TV.

“One of these days you’re going to tell me how you have access to the SHIELD systems.”

“A woman must have her secrets. I still think it’s precious you didn’t believe me when I told you.”

“We’re a top-secret government agency, I wasn’t exactly expecting a college co-ed to somehow gain access, be she my ‘kick ass soulmate’ or not.”

Darcy beamed at Phil using her wording. She was totally a good influence.

“Kick ass, indeed." That video of Phil, the cat statue, and the Columbian ambassador had been a priceless gem of a discovery. "Now tell me or I might have to go find the answer myself and possibly discover other things that I shouldn’t while perusing through classified files and getting myself in trouble.”

Phil did that nose-breathing thing when he stalled for time or was anywhere outside of his ‘normal’ emotional range of calmly content. But then he looked over to give her a rueful smile through the computer.

“I’m fully aware you only said ‘answer’ singular; therefore, you’re not promising to refrain from snooping for other things in the future.”

She sat up and dramatically placed one hand on her heart.

“Me? Never!”

He gave her a rare eye roll.

“Since this will hopefully keep me from having to explain to my superiors just exactly who you are and why you're into our files, I’ll just tell you.”

“YES! Okay,how many? Hit me.”

“Ten.”

“Really? Only ten?”

“With at least one superior level, yes. What were you expecting? Eleventy billion?”

Darcy stuck her tongue out at him but was satisfied with that information and leaned back into her couch cushions.

They went back to silently watching the show until Phil scoffed.

“He’d be demoted for that.”

“For what?”

“He’s wearing a white shirt as part of his civvies. It’s against regulation to wear part of the uniform on its own when dressed as a civilian.”

“You realize we're watching NCIS, right?"

"Which is why they shouldn't have made a mistake like that."

Darcy paused and huffed out a laugh.

"We’re watching a show where we’re supposed to believe Mark Harmon regularly outsmarts and takes out huge terrorist organizations, but you’re having issues with a private wearing a white t-shirt because it’s part of his uniform and against regulations?”

“It’s a serious problem.”

“Whatever. We’re watching Sherlock next week.”

 

Six months after Close Encounters of the Puente Antiguo Kind, Phil was sent on to other tasks. By that point he knew better than to even try avoiding Darcy’s continued communication. She figured he’d learned to recognize her sheer awesomeness and how much he needed her in his life. He posited she was just a habit by that point; or a chronic condition.

She didn't call him for a week based on principle.

It wasn’t long after his transfer that Phil gave Darcy his first lecture about how people confuse the terms ‘new’ and ‘improved’ nowadays. He defends his obsession with Captain America memorabilia saying he collected things that need to be preserved as touchstones to the past. She snickered throughout the conversation, but let him finish the before she started sending him Pepperidge Farm Remembers memes.

But she also decided to more actively help him in his endeavors.

 

_Are you the one that sent me the crying baby trading card?_

**Do you have many people sending you obscure and awesome pieces of Captain America memorabilia?**

_How did you know I didn’t have that?_

**It was in your watched items on eBay and you hadn’t bought it yet.**

_I’m not even going to ask how you got into my eBay account._

**Dude. Your personal passwords are totally predictable.**

_I would like to point out that I did not use a pets name or my birthday._

**Not a good defense.**

**You don’t have a pet and you used Steve Rogers’ birthday.**

 

By far, Darcy’s proudest moment was when she hacked Phil’s computer into automatically answering her Skype calls. She made note of that historic day as she'd discovered he had a guilty pleasure for Michael Jackson. 

 

Darcy hit enter after her last bit of code and resisted a cackle when she suddenly saw Phil's apartment on her screen.

Bingo. 

They were supposed to Skype in a half hour anyway, but she was bored and figured she could try and discover more about the elusive Coulson in his natural habitat. 

She was trying to peruse his bookcase across the room when she caught an impressive falsetto in the background and turned her speakers to full volume.

Sure enough, yes, there it was. The sound of the shower and one Philip J. Coulson singing about a girl who thinks she is the one.

Darcy definitely cackled then. She cackled so much she didn't hear his singing cut off, the shower stop, or notice him coming into frame holding a towel around his hips in one hand and a gun in the other. 

"Dammit, Darcy!"

Her laughter became silent and tears streamed down her cheeks when she saw him.

"You..." she guffawed and stopped, unable to breathe. 

He walked out of the camera frame; well, more stalked off, probably still dripping water.

Darcy turned her volume back down and tried to get her laughter under control. She'd limited herself to a few outbursts of giggles every thirty seconds by the time Phil came back in a set of sweats, his hair still damp, but no gun in hand. He sat down at what must of been the kitchen table and pulled the computer closer to him, resting his arms on either side of it.

"Oh my word. Phil. You are a man of hidden depths; _hidden depths_!"

He remained silent as he stared her down.

"I will never be able to sing Billie Jean at karaoke anymore. I have been humbled by a true master."

"Darcy," he said his voice low. "If anyone finds out about this you will regret it."

"Come on now, that was fantastic! How can you keep your light hidden under a bushel like that?"

"I mean it. If I get one whiff of this from anyone at SHIELD you will find your iPod once again appropriated. But this time for a 'contain and destroy' initiative."

She gasped.

"No!"

Phil's face was completely serious; and it was definitely Phil looking at her, not Agent.

Darcy sobered and sat up straight.

"Not my little Bubba-Gus!"

"Your confidentiality assures his safety."

She leaned back and narrowed her eyes at Phil.

And then giggled.

"Only if you give me an encore of Pretty Young Thing."

Phil dropped his face into his hands.

 

Almost ten months to the day after the metal Asgardian of Doom, Phil was sent off on some super secret thing. Darcy didn’t worry too much because she could sense all kinds of excitement bleeding through the few texts she got from him. That type of response wasn’t appropriate from Phil for any sort of clandestine adventure. He saw gleeful secret agent behavior as a big no-no.

But his responses got more and more spotty over the next couple of weeks and Darcy felt a twinge of apprehension.

And then Jane got a call.

 

**Why are we going to Tromso?**

_Why would I know that?_

**Stop that. You know I know when you’re lying.**

_Okay. No lies. This is one of those situations where you need to do what I say._

**It’s not safe?**

_We’ve had a bit of a situation here and it’s not likely to get settled quickly. So there’s that._

**You’re okay, right?**

_Yes._

**Good. That’s good.**

**But I’m not happy about this.**

_Your frown will go on record. Now stop hassling Agent Sitwell and get on the plane._

**You’re seriously watching right now, aren’t you? Where are you?**

_Not there. Just try not to be you and don’t get into any more trouble than usual while I’m gone._

**Sigh. Fine. Go kick some ass.**

**\---**

**Gran, stay safe. I mean it.**

Darcy and Jane got on the plane and headed to Tromso. The Science! dweebs over there seemed just as confused by their presence and that was not a good sign. Not at all. Thankfully the SHIELD lackeys in Norway hadn’t gotten the memo to limit Darcy’s access, so she hacked the system to find out what was really going on.

New York with a dash of alien massacre was what was going on.

She and Jane got back stateside as soon as they could. But it wasn’t soon enough.

Erik confusedly tried to explain what happened and Darcy felt like she was on Main Street in Puente Antiguo all over again; furious and terrified as she stared down certain death. SHIELD refused to answer any of their questions and merely told them they'd be notified if their assistance was needed.

Darcy texted Phil. She called Phil. She tried to force answer her calls to him in Skype. She tried to hack into all of his phones, tablets, and computers.

Nothing was on. Nothing was answered.

Phil wasn’t anywhere.               

And then SHIELD’s internal casualty list came out.

Phil was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. It had to be done. 
> 
> But despite what Joss says, PHIL LIVES!!!!!!


	4. Making Like a Bee Gee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There has to be some kind of clause about Fairy Godmother's dying; Darcy's sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be some extra mistakes as I want to get this out now when I have the chance, knowing me I'll probably come back again later and fix them.

“Darcy, are you okay?”

There wasn’t any response. Jane came to stand behind her intern and rested a hand on the younger woman's shoulder. Darcy’s eyes remained fixed to the computer in front of her, so Jane glanced at the screen.

“Why are you in SHIELD’s database?”

“It’s Phil.”

“Huh?”

“The SHIELD casualty list. Phil. He’s there. They label him as…”

Darcy pointed at the screen as her voice trailed off and Jane followed to read the name indicated.

“Coulson? As in Agent Coulson?”

“Or Phil. Or Gran. Or—”

Jane turned Darcy in her chair and bent to peer at the other woman’s face.

“You’re not making any sense.”

Darcy’s eyes focused and then closed.

“He…he was my soulmate.”

The scientist straightened quickly.

“Coulson was your soulmate?”

“The platonic one, yeah.”

Jane took a deep breath.

“Shit.”

Darcy nodded with her eyes still closed and pretended there weren’t tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Shit.”

Her voice cracked halfway through.

Jane surged forward and wrapped her arms around Darcy, rubbing her back and gently rocking from side to side. Darcy already knew the scientist resorted to physical contact when words failed her, so she hugged back and gave in to a rare emotional display.

Once Darcy’s breathing returned to normal, Jane gave her a final squeeze, sniffed, and cleared her throat.

“Right. I’m getting the alcohol. Meet me on the roof in five minutes.”

An hour later, two tipsy but not yet drunk women lounged in lawn chairs atop a former car dealership, staring at the stars and talking to the void above as much as each other.

Well, Darcy was only tipsy, Jane still was kind of a lightweight.

“And you know how Phil said they ‘appropriated’ my ipod because I could have dangerous data on there?”

“Yesh.”

“Total bull. Some mini lackey just wanted to rip off my sweet-awesome Hall & Oates playlist. Tool.”

Jane made a dramatic sweep of her arm and harrumphed.

“Tools. The lot of them.”

Darcy nodded emphatically and the two were silent for a minute, staring up at the sky.  

“Shouldn’t I feel it? I mean, he was my soulmate.”

Jane flopped her head over to look at her.

“Feel what?”

“Shouldn’t I feel it deep down that he’s gone?”

“Grief sets in in weird ways. It could take a while.”

“Yeah, I just…what if he isn’t dead. What if—”

The scientist flung her hand out to pat the Darcy's shoulder.

“Darcy, take it from me. The ‘what if’ road isn’t a good one to go down.”

They both are quiet for a moment before Darcy once again breaks the silence. This time her voice is more timid.

“Jane, are you really going to give up on Thor?

“Darce—“

“I mean, I’m speaking as someone who just lost their totally awesome bff soulmate, so I just wonder if it’s too soon. You know?”

Jane sighed again and sat up and Darcy lifted her head to watch her.

“Thor, he…he didn’t come back. He didn’t try to find me. He didn’t try to leave me a message.” Jane stared down at her hands and shrugged her shoulders. “All I’m left with is theories. Theories that either he didn’t want to come back or couldn’t and probably still can’t.”

Jane paused for a moment and took a deep breath before releasing it slowly.

“I’m a scientist; testing theories is what I do. But it’s not up to me anymore. It’s up to him and I don’t even know if he still wants the same thing. There’s not much I can do with any of that, so what else am I supposed to do?”

Darcy dropped her head back onto her lawn chair and let out a long breath of her own.

“That sucks. Sucks balls.”

Jane gave a watery chuckle.

“Major balls.”

After another couple minutes of quiet sniffles from both of them, Jane leaned over and poured out two more shots. The small woman cleared her throat grandly and held shot up in toast until Darcy sat up and grabbed her glass.

“To not sucking balls.”

Darcy nodded and then tossed back her shot. She slammed her glass back down on the makeshift table between them and stared at Jane.

“Okay, boss lady. What next?”

Jane glanced over startled.

“Why are you asking me?”

“You’re the genius in charge; where you lead I follow.”

With a smile Jane set her glass down gently.

“How do you feel about England?”

“England?”

“Erik’s got some theories he wanted to explore over there and I thought a new location might be…cathartic.”

“Yeah, I could go for England.”

“It’s settled then,” Jane murmured as she leaned back in her chair.

“God save the Queen,” Darcy agreed following suit.

Jane began softly humming to herself and Darcy glanced back over at her friend.

“You know, I feel like we bonded even more tonight than after the whole robo-destructo day.”

“Studies show that intense, traumatic experiences do create a momentary and significant bond, but said bond won’t continue unless there are other common factors between two parties.”

Darcy took a minute to parse that out in her alcohol-laden mind.

“So, you’re saying we’re total besties now?”

“Besties sans testes.”

Jane snorted at her own joke and both she and Darcy dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Love you, boss lady.”

“Love you too, minion.”

 

Life around the dealership come Science! lab kicked back into full gear after the late night on the roof. But it wasn’t until two weeks later that Darcy realized she was taking second-hand information as truth; and no real scientist did that. It didn't matter if she was a political scientist. You always check your sources.

She’d never told Phil that she was able to access SHIELD files because one of his clearly under-trained suits had logged into SHIELD’s database from Darcy’s computer, on which she may or may not have previously installed a keystroke monitor. She wasn’t stupid enough to just use Agent Cale’s log-in all the time; so she played around until she got into the IT side of it and created her own profile. She was on official listings as Sarah Williams and worked in records. The perfect cover to access all kinds of files and documents willy-nilly.

And once again, access files she did.

The first stop was Phil’s personnel file.

Her heart genuinely hurt when she saw ‘deceased’ in all caps as his status.

But nothing could be taken at face value with SHIELD. If New Mexico hadn’t taught her that, the Tromso-New York fiasco had certainly opened her eyes. Even if he was dead, there was more to it than just a name on a list, and Darcy needed to know everything. She took a minute to remember Phil’s voice, put on her ass-kicking playlist, and dug in.

Phil had told one of his superiors that he’d met his soulmate, so she should be listed somewhere, even if it was just in some random footnote. But after quite a few thoroughly impressive mission reports and field notes about Phil’s complete and total badassery, Darcy still had yet to find any mention of her name, let alone anything about him having a soulmark. Maybe he’d called in a favor and had her left off. He'd have done it for her own safety; one of the noble moves he was so fond of. Dork.

She read every report about New York, every statement about Roswell, every detail she could get her hands on, but  was left with very little and she dropped her head to her desk with a groan.

“Darcy, I think you need to take a break,” Jane called from the other side of the lab.

“I’m fine,” she responded, but it was muffled with her face still down.

“No, you’re not. You haven’t left the flat in a week and you haven’t even mentioned that I’ve been wearing the same pajamas for three days; backwards!”

Darcy looked up and noticed that indeed Jane was wearing her Culver sleep shirt and it had various stains and marks on the area that would have normally been over the middle of her back. The intern lifted her hands and covered her face.

“I can’t stop; I need to know.”

Jane came over and set a hand on Darcy’s shoulder.

“I know and I’m not saying you need to stop.” She squeezed the shoulder her hand rested on. “Just take a break. Spend a couple days helping me and Erik make some equipment and then go back at it.”

Darcy hummed to show she was listening.

“Approach it from a new angle. You know, like you make me do when I stuck in a rut.”

With a nod, Darcy clapped her hands down on the desk and sat up straight.

“You’re right.”

“I usually am.”

Jane gave her shoulder one last squeeze and started moving away.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. What is it you wanted me to duct tape together?”

 

A couple of days later Darcy decided she’d start over from the beginning. She’d gotten too distracted with all the side reports trying to find out everything that she didn’t look for the small details; and the SHIELD devil was totally in the details.

She went back to Phil’s file.

He was still officially listed as deceased, and after the initial gut clench, Darcy took a closer look. It seemed fishy that the man was dead but some M. Hill kept making notes and editing past mission reports. What was the point of doing that if the man was dead? SHIELD seemed the type to just hide history rather than rewrite it; effective allocation of time and energy.

And then there were new details she hadn’t noticed before; like the fact that his time of death was at 18:00, May 7th, 2012, but his official notation of death wasn’t made until a whole two weeks later. Sure, there were a lot of other deaths that had to be notated, but after some cross-referencing Darcy found all of those had been made within a week of the Chitauri attack.

That was one devil of a detail.

 

It was on a random Wednesday in July when new mission reports suddenly appeared and a reorganization of personnel was linked to Agent Coulson. Darcy had been trying to limit her obsessive file stalking so as not to worry Jane, so she’d only begun to write down the names of L. Fitz and J. Simmons, when Phil’s file was upped to a higher security clearance level. A level she couldn't look at.

She’d seen that happen before when she tried to stalk Agent Sitwell post New Mexico when he must have been promoted (and possibly even Fury himself but she’d never have admitted to looking at Fury's file, merely for the hope of plausible deniability). Sitwell's file had been classified; and that only made sense for an active senior-level agent—Phil was an active senior-level agent; an active agent who wasn’t dead—Phil wasn’t dead.

Phil wasn’t dead.

Darcy made a sound that wasn’t remotely human.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

She ran over to where Dr. Selvig had lurched up from the couch and gave him a hug.

“He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive. PHIL’S ALIVE!!”

The confused scientist patted her back awkwardly where he could reach as her arms were still wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides.

“That’s nice, I’m sure.”

“It’s freaking fantastic!”

She looked up and saw that he was nodding a little frantically and released him.

“Sorry, I just needed to share that with someone.”

“Well, then, I’m honored and, uh, grateful…”

Darcy couldn’t hold in her laugh and gave him another quick hug.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Erik. Just you wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there!! 
> 
> But, I must warn you that you'll have to wait at least a week for the final chapter. I'm off cruising with my family.
> 
> If you miss me too much, though, I have posts scheduled on Tumblr for the Winterschock Challenge. You know, if you're into that kind of thing.


	5. The Thingamabob that Does the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Phil, being discovered was only a matter of time. He had a kick-ass soulmate who was going to make sure of it.

“Let me get this straight. Based off altered file notations, personnel updates, and increased secrecy you know that Coulson is still alive?”

“Yes! Look at all these.”

Darcy laid all her notes and copied files out in front of Jane and explained each step and discovery she'd made. Afterwards she stood fidgeting as the other woman took her time going through everything with her brows furrowed.

“You think it’s crazy, don’t you?”

“Hmm?” Jane turned to her and then registered what she’d said. “Oh, no; the opposite in fact. I think you are absolutely correct. Especially when you see these notes here and how they don’t correspond with—”

“You really think I’m right?”

“Yes.”

Darcy let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Jane thought she was right. A genius scientist believed her when she said her soulmate was being hidden away by a super-shady steal-your-memory men-in-black agency. Darcy felt on the edge of hysterical laughter but held it in when Jane kept talking.

“It genuinely makes the most sense in this situation and fits well with SHIELD’s ham-fisted handling of secrets. They have a knack for screwing up even the most simple tasks that they determine as ‘necessary’ and ‘unsafe for public knowledge’.”

The hysteria was subsiding and Darcy gave Jane a rueful grin at the other woman's cynical tone.

“Like shipping us to Tromso?”

Darcy didn't like to bring up Thor; he was still a sensitive subject.

The scientist gave a bitter laugh.

“Precisely like shipping us to Tromso. They seem to think if they tell someone anything that that makes it fact and making sure all the details match up doesn’t matter. So that if they told people Phil was dead it would become truth for all those that didn’t ‘need to know’ and they didn't need to go through and make sure the files said the same thing everywhere.”

“Exactly!” Jane gave her a thoughtful look but Darcy couldn’t hold in her excitement anymore and jumped off her stool. “PHIL’S ALIVE!”

She did a happy dance, wrapping Jane in a bear hug, and forced the other woman to jump up and down with her while squealing like a scene in a stereotypical chick-flick.

After a couple more seconds of giddy laughter, Darcy stilled long enough to grab her boss’ face in both hands and give a loud smacking kiss to her forehead. Jane giggled, clearly distracted from her bitter ruminations about SHIELD, and hugged Darcy again.

“I’m so happy for you, Darce!”

"Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Jane pulled back and smiled at Darcy a little breathlessly.

"Now what?"

“Now, more digging. I need to find out more. I need to find out where he is.”

Darcy pivoted away but Jane grabbed her in a strong grip and started pulling her back and towards their rooms.

“Nope. Not happening.”

Seriously, lugging around all the Science! equipment gave Jane some serious grip strength and Darcy had no choice but to stumble along with her.

“What? Why not?”

Jane shoved Darcy into her room and the intern sat and watched the scientist as she disappeared into the closet and began tossing items out.

“You hacked a top-secret government agency. You proved that your soulmate is still alive. _You stuck it to The Man_!”

Jane popped out of the closet and picked up the things she’d thrown out, dropping the pile into Darcy’s lap.

“You need to take a break and celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“Yes. And how do we celebrate?”

“Alcohol.”

“Correct. Get changed.” Jane patted her head and walked towards the door but paused in the doorway to look back with a massive grin. “We’re going on a pub-crawl!”

Darcy sat stunned for a moment.

Phil was alive and would still be tomorrow. She was going to find him no matter what. Everything was going to be okay.

Jane was abso-freaking-lutely right.

It was time to celebrate.

“Hells yes! Let’s do this!”

 

The next afternoon (because the morning was rather hazy and headachey and neither she nor Jane could really move before 11:00), Darcy relocated her base of operations to the local Pret a Manger so she wouldn’t freak Erik out again. Poor man just couldn’t take her ferocity,and she was gonna take those SHIELD bitches to war.

Ferociousness was necessary and only gonna increase.

But over a period of daily searching over her lunch she found she wasn’t any closer. She couldn’t find where they were keeping him. And it didn’t matter what she did, which files she dug into, or who she tried to hack.

She’d thought she might be able to find him through lower-level minions, but all the other personnel that had been associated with him had huge sections of their files suddenly redacted or classified. And there went SHIELD sucking balls all over again.

 

"Are you asking yourself the right question, Darcy?"

She glanced up quickly from the notes she'd been mumbling over to see Erik standing in front of her: rumpled but by all accounts lucid.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you keep asking where he is but should you be? Could the right question be  where _should_ he be right now?"

"With me, duh."

He gave her a fond smile and sat down next to her on the couch.

"I know you feel that way. I may have at some point as well with others in my life. But I know I feel a little better knowing that men like Coulson are still out there doing their job, still fighting."

Darcy sat still for a moment then sighed and flopped back against the couch cushions behind her.

"Why do you have to be so right?"

 

After her surprise tête-à-tête with Erik, Darcy was able to cool down on her search. Unlike with Jane and Thor, Darcy knew Phil would be back, so there was no need to hang out in the flat constantly wearing pajamas as Jane had taken to recently. Because that damn godmother of Darcy's had to be coming back sooner or later; he'd be back as Coulson the White or something equally awesome. And even if she wasn't going to force him to show himself right then, she knew he was alive and wanted him to know it.

So she emailed him.

She’d long since figured out SHIELD’s standard protocols for internal e-mails. Phil had actually been serious enough about his work passwords she’d never been able to get into his. She was, however, able to send mail to phillip.coulson@shield.gov from her self-created email for one Sarah Williams. And after the first e-mail to his supposedly deactivated account didn’t return any mailer-daemon or ‘unable to deliver’ response, she continued to send more.

Nothing that could be traced back to her. Just links to things he’d want to buy: cuff link versions of Captain America’s shield, a piece for Lola, Michael Jackson’s greatest hits _—_ or things he’d think were funny: Tony Stark memes, Law & Order fanfiction, videos of cackling birds.

She never heard anything back, but she knew he was getting them; that was all that mattered.

 

In early November, Darcy sat in Pret eating some hot soup when a new playlist showed up in her iTunes account. It was untitled and had only one song. Man in the Mirror.

She froze and then laughed for a solid two minutes nearly spilling tomato bisque down her front.

Wasn’t that just like the doofus? His intense fixation with Michael Jackson’s music aside, he was probably making a sad attempt of sending a poetic message about cleaning things up on his own. And that was ridiculous.

Trust Phil to 'die' and then try to be all noble and stoic. Again.

Darcy scoffed and set her soup down.

SHIELD files were one thing, but tracing things through iTunes was freaking child’s play (even easier than Skype). Apple left digital footprints like no one’s business and she was going to make it hers.

Phil, sweet summer child that he was, wasn’t going to be secret much longer.

But just as she had put her hands back on the keyboard, about to show Phil who was freaking boss, the doodad thingy Jane wanted her to keep track of started going crazy.

And then the whole Thor: The Sequel—with Elves! happened.

 

Eventually the elves were taken out, Thor came back, kissing took place, and Jane was ecstatic.

Darcy, however, was cautiously optimistic.

 

“Hey, do you have any way of getting in contact with those bozos at SHIELD?”

She would have felt guilty about asking when the reunion celebrations were just getting started but this was the best chance she’d gotten in a long time. And nearly dying once again reminded her that there was no time like the now. Besides, she’d totally waited like a whole hour; that was patience personified with her.

“Nay, Darcy. I have not had any communication with them since the battle with _—_ ”

Thor paused and Darcy laid a hand on his shoulder. Loki was probably going to be a difficult subject for a while.

“Yeah, I get you, big guy.”

He gave her a small smile and pulled her in for a hug.

“My Jane says you search for your beloved.”

She burrowed her face into his massive chest. Thor really did give the best hugs. But they were going to have to get him some softer clothes if there was going to be more hugging in the future: his armor was rather pokey.

“Not romantic beloved, but… yeah, totally beloved.”

He pulled back enough to place his hands on her shoulders and look down at her.

“Then I wish you all speed and success in your battle.”

 

Darcy knew SHIELD would be there cleaning up after Thor's most recent alien adventure. SHIELD was there last time. They’d be here this time. And with a situation this big, there had to be someone at level seven or higher in charge. They weren’t going to want any more details than were strictly necessary getting out about another alien attack, so they’d need someone with high clearance and the ability to shut people up.

Whoever the head suit was, they were going to give her something on Phil: whether they wanted to or not.

So, while Jane and Thor got distracted in each other's tonsils, Darcy went about ignoring Ian's pathetic hopes for a repeat of her adrenaline-fueled mistake and focused on finding what she needed. She threw on the business outfit she'd got for the last conference Jane forced her to attend, scrounged up her old security badge from Tromso, and headed back over to Greenwich three days after she saw it nearly destroyed.

There were nondescript vehicles and suits everywhere, all local traffic had been stopped or redirected around the college, and there were obviously bored mini-suits on rooftops all over the place.

SHIELD most definitely was in residence.

She squared her shoulders and dove into the gathered crowd at the edge of the controlled zone, forcefully making her way through the spectators and beyond. Once through, Darcy made it past the first two lines of security easily enough by sheer attitude alone—although the right clothes and badge probably didn’t hurt.

It was the third level that proved to be a problem.

Shockingly, there actually seemed to be a properly trained dude who finally stopped her and asked for ID.

Darcy remembered every shift she'd ever seen Phil make to become Agent and gave the jack-booted thug a glare.

“Look, I know it’s your job as a mindless SHIELD drone to hassle me, but I need to talk to the head suit in charge.”

“Ma’am—“

“Oh, don’t even try and start ‘ma’aming’ me.”

“Please, I’m only—“

“Take me to whoever is calling the shots.” Darcy channeled creepy Agent face and stared the guy down despite him having a good six inches on her. “I don’t care if it’s Sitwell or whoever. Just take me to them before this gets to the point that I have to involve Fury.”

She had no idea how she’d actually follow through on her threat to invoke the Fury. But sometimes all it took was knowing the right names and a killer ability to bullshit with a straight face. While baby agent might have been combat trained, there was no way he was going to be able to take her in a battle of bureaucratic chicken; she’d learned from the best after all.

Darcy arched a brow and continued to force eye-contact with the lesser lackey.

It only took fifteen seconds before he cracked.

“All right. Follow me.”

Phil would be both annoyed and proud when she told him.

Darcy gave a short nod and silently followed as he led her into the college. She was too busy rehearsing any threat, leverage, or argument that might help her in the inevitable confrontation with the head suit in charge to take much notice of any surroundings. But she knew they'd arrived at the headquarters when they enter a large room with people in both suits and tactical gear milling about the carpeted walkways and saran-wrapped study carrels.

Darcy tried to focus and note anything and anyone that could be of use to her. Up ahead in the direction she and baby-thug were headed, she spotted a girl that was probably a couple years younger than herself talking to a woman. The second had to be just as badass as Phil considering her top-notch Agent Face and SHIELD-issued catsuit.

Even straining to hear their conversation as they got closer, Darcy could only catch the last comment the older woman made.

“No, he’s dreamy.”

By that point Darcy and her witless tour guide made it past the last of the carrels and she watched the two women walk away.

“Agent Miller, what seems to be the problem?”

Darcy's breath hitched and she stepped out from behind the mini agent.

And there he stood. There was Phil. Her Gran.

“GRAN!”

Darcy ran/leapt the last few feet and threw herself at him. It was their first real hug (totally his fault, not hers), which could have been way awkward, but it felt right. Despite the fact that it took Phil way too long to actually hug her back.

“Damn it, Darcy. I wanted you to stay away.”

“Coulson?”

Darcy ignored the other voice as she tucked her head into Phil’s shoulder. If he asked, she’d deny that any wetness left over afterwards were tears over Phil; it was the dust. Totally the dust.

“Stand down, May. She’s not a threat.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

He sighed and Darcy simply squeezed him tighter. 

“Positive.”

There were a couple of quiet whispers after his explanation and Darcy could practically feel the ensuing silence. They were probably all gawking and getting ready to spread the gossip through the entire organization. They'd most likely make her out to be Phil's hot little number on the side. Phil might care, but she didn't give a damn.

“May, clear the room. I need to have a private discussion with Ms. Lewis here.”

"Sir?"

"Don't get trigger-happy. I rather like this suit and if you ice her she'll drool on it. I'm in no danger."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Gran," Darcy muttered into his coat jacket.

"I'd suggest you not say things like that unless you want my colleagues to put you in a holding cell. I'd be tempted to leave you there; without your iPod."

"You talk big."

She felt the breath he huffed through his nose stir her hair.

"Job requirement."

Darcy heard some shuffling that must have been the last of the suits leaving and a serene quiet followed.

Phil rested his hands on her ribs and started to attempt to push her away.

“You can let go now.”

“Nope, no, niet. You never told anyone about me. You let me think you were dead. You never even answered even when you knew I knew you weren't. And you weren’t even going to tell me you were here. So, _you_ must put up with extended hugs and awkward physical contact as punishment.”

He sighed but didn’t put up further argument and simply returned to hugging her back.

She called that a major win.

“Darcy—”

“Nope. No talking. I know you’re not going to say anything I want to hear yet. So we’re sticking with hugging so I can make sure you’re real and here. You're allowed to sass me afterwards.”

She felt his chuckle and gladly went back to hugging him in silence that might have soon gotten awkward.

But they were once again interrupted when someone else came into the room with a heavy tread.

“Sir, I was alerted there was a security breach.” The new agent gave a small cough to cover what must have been a snicker. “I would offer to look into it but it seems you’ve got the situation... in hand.”

Phil sighed; he must have known and trusted this guy to show even that much emotion. 

Darcy took a moment to exult in her luck. She’d stuck it to the man once again. She now had Phil. And she’d found someone else who was able to get that weary, long-suffering sigh out of the official Agent Coulson. It was shaping up to be an awesome day.

“Thank you for your concern, Barton. No issue other than a wayward intern.”

She heard a deep chuckle and for a moment thought about turning to actually check the guy out but decided she wasn’t done hugging Phil yet.

“So you’re the one that’s been making Phil’s eyes twitch. Nice.”

She gasped and shifted back to stare at Phil’s face.

His eyes were closed and he released a long groan.

“I _definitely_ regret this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, come to the end of the main adventures of Phil and Darcy. I hope you guys liked it!!

**Author's Note:**

> Same as before, I'm [awww-brain-no](http://awww-brain-no.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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